He turned to the Creator with his prayer Of pain, to Wisdom and Omniscience, And cried: “O God, who art the Lord of all, Who easest sorrow, and who hearest prayer, Thou knowest the hidden secrets of the world, For thou art Ruler both of heaven and earth. Thou knowest well the plight in which I lie; And that my burden ever greater grows; No human mind can tell what I have borne, How I am bowed beneath a load of shame; How I have been the slave of luckless woe, And have succumbed to the sharp stroke of grief. I burn in passion’s longing and distress, But thy grace reigns in blest tranquillity; I cannot ope my heart to anyone, For utterance crushes me, and wearies me; For I am friendless in a stranger’s house, Hopeless in absence from my well-beloved. Nothing is constant to me, saving grief And obloquy. Was ever such a lot? And no one sorrows over my distress, My eye alone distils these pearly tears; No friend is partner of my obloquy, My gloom of sighs involves myself alone. No one has sympathy with my dread lot, Nor heeds the wounds upon my bleeding breast. If I should die, there would no mourners be, Excepting this impassioned heart of mine. I tread the valley of astonishment, O God, when shall I reach the house of joy? Oh, by this heart, that runs to thee for help, By the deep sighs that burn me as they rise, By the loud beatings of my whispering heart, By the belovèd Rose in which I trust, By all the beauty of some distant scene, By all the rapture of heroic love, By the high honor of my well-beloved, By the lorn lot of him who loveth her, By the black weeds that my devotion speak, And by the tears that fill my eyes like blood, By the misfortune and the wrath I feel, By him who separates me from my love, Yea, by the honeyed sweetness of her lips, And by my own sincerity of soul, By the unhappiness of him who loves, And by his unstained rectitude of heart, By that which to the lover causes woe, And by the night-long pain in which he pines, By all the light that glorifies the moon, By all the radiance of this world of ours, By daylight and the pomp of noonday suns, By the thick darkness of the midnight hour, By earth below, and by the heavens above, And by the hustling crowd on judgment day, By Adam’s early days of innocence, By him who is the lord of purity, By Seth, by Noah, and by Abraham, By Gabriel, who brought the message down, By Moses, who as prince and preacher spoke, By Jesus and the light that Mary shed, By all the love that great Mahomet won, By his forbearance and his majesty, By his young people and his dwelling-place, By his great might that nothing could subdue: By the prevailing virtue of God’s name And by his nature’s unity divine,